Harder No, faster
by eyesocketsandsuits
Summary: [[ PruAus Oneshots ]] Roderich frowned, eyebrows furrowing. He glanced over through flour covered glasses at the man next to him. Usually, it was Gilbert thinking these things. Well, not that Roderich knew for sure, but sometimes he would say something innocent and Gilbert would grin. He had taken too long to respond. "I think I know how to knead dough, Gilbert. I own a bakery."
1. Harder, No Faster

"Harder… No, faster."

Roderich frowned, eyebrows furrowing. He glanced over through flour covered glasses at the man next to him. Usually, it was Gilbert thinking these things. Well, not that Roderich knew for sure, but sometimes he would say something innocent and Gilbert would _grin_.

He had taken too long to respond.

"I think I know how to knead dough, Gilbert. I own a bakery, after all."

Gilbert laughed, checking Roderich lightly with his hip. "Yeah, and you always call me over to help with the piecrusts, so shut up."

It was true, Gilbert worked a rolling pin like the knights of old used to wield swords. Roderich, an excellent baker if he said so himself, could never quite get the right thickness for piecrust. It either ended up thinner than a hair or too thick to cook through all the way through.

"I don't have to help, you know…" Gilbert teased, smirk stretching across his face. "I don't like these early morning rendezvous."

Roderich frowned down at his dough. What an odd choice of words. "I don't exactly enjoy when you try to be clever, so it looks like we're an impasse." He reached up to adjust his glasses, smearing more flour onto them.

Gilbert mock gasped and looked around. "Roderich! That's impolite! Someone might hear you."

Roderich took off his glasses, setting them aside. "No one here besides your idiotic bird," he grumbled. The dough was too thin. Roderich massaged it back into a ball and began again.

"I think you mean my darling," Gilbert snapped, eyes wandering over to his canary resting on one of the tabletops; Roderich would have to wipe it down thoroughly. "You look good without your glasses," Gilbert commented quietly, making eye contact briefly.

Lies and flattery. Roderich snorted. "I'm not letting you lick anything."

It was Gilbert's turn for his eyebrows to draw together. Then he laughed. "Aw, come on! One little lick."

Perhaps Roderich should hire an actual employee instead of dragging Gilbert from his house every morning. But… Employees were expensive. And Gilbert was free. And the pies would suffer.

"No," Roderich sighed.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

Roderich realized Gilbert was watching him intently. It was suddenly very dark and very quiet in his bakery. Roderich stopped rolling his dough, checking its thickness. He considered the question. It was true, not much could happen; it was too early. The baker replaced his glasses.

Roderich turned to Gilbert, whose smile froze. Gilbert certainly was something; who had even heard of a successful blogger? How does one even get paid? At least it left Gilbert plenty of time to work out with his brother. It showed.

Yes, Roderich considered the question.

He also considered the three wedding bands he had at home.

"I could lose my piecrust maker," Roderich answered, turning back to the dough. "Besides, you wouldn't know what you were doing."

Gilbert spluttered. "Excuse me. I think I'm perfecting good at s… Uh, rolling piecrusts."

Roderich checked his dough. Too thick.


	2. Confessions

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

Roderich let out a soft hum of encouragement. "How long since your last Confession?"

The man on the other side kept shifting about, and Roderich could see his vague shadow spread out in the Confessional. He spoke in a different dialect of German, and Roderich guessed he wasn't from Austria.

"It has been a week since my last Confession."

He was new though, Roderich noted. Probably visiting for the weekend.

"In the past several days, I have had thoughts of the homosexual variety. Admittedly, they were pretty _awesome_ thoughts, but still of the sinful kind." Roderich could _hear_ the smirk in the words. "I am sorry for these and all the sins of my past life, especially for _impurity_."

Roderich's skin crawled, and the Confessional felt very hot all of a sudden. The priest cleared his throat.

"I ask absolution from you, Roderich," the man finished.

Roderich watched as the shadow leaned closer. "Five Hail Marys for your sinful thoughts."

"I liked your service today."

Roderich bristled. "The Confessional is used so that God may hear and absolve you of your sins. If you wish to speak to me, personally, you will have to do so at a more convenient time. Please, finish your Contrition."

The man laughed. "I like you, Father. I like how you force the 'please' in there." And then he stood and left.

Roderich blinked, still staring at the empty booth next to him. He shook his head, opening the door and hoping to catch sight of whoever had entered.

He was gone.

 **…**

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

Roderich took a sharp breath and released it through his nose. _This_ joker again. Roderich could hear his faint chuckle from the other side of the screen. Roderich took of his glasses, folding them.

"Aren't you going to ask me how long it's been since I've sinned?"

Roderich closed his eyes. "Only if you're going to take it seriously and repent for what you've sinned for; instead of that awful act you pulled last week without finishing your Contrition. Do you think you're capable of that?"

There was silence, then a faint giggle. Roderich wanted dearly to bang his head against the wooden panels of the Confessional—maybe when he woke up, this man would be gone.

"Calm down, Roderich. My name is Gilbert."

Roderich, had he not been under the watchful gaze of God, would have rolled his eyes. As it was, he just shut them. "I am bound to anonymity while in the Confessional. How long since your last Confession?" Roderich hope he didn't sound as annoyed as he felt.

"A week."

Roderich sighed, attempting to calm himself. It was his duty to lead his flock back onto God's holy path… However stubborn and idiotic they may be. "Two, I'm afraid. Last week's does not count."

"Alright then, Roddy, _two_ weeks since my last Confession. In these last few weeks, I have thought about men in compromising positions, usually naked. You know," Gilbert's shadow leaned back. "I've been wondering, is that whole thing with abstinence still a thing?"

Roderich felt his skin crawl and his face warm up. "This is a house of God."

"Never said it wasn't, Roderich. Just wondering your opinion on the whole thing. See you later, Roderich."

This time, Roderich caught sight of a platinum blond man walking away.

 **…**

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been…"

"Seven."

"Seven weeks since my last _successful_ confession."

Roderich took off his glasses, settling back in the Confessional. "Let me guess, homosexual thoughts, an inappropriate comment, and then you walk away before I finish Contrition. You're a boring sinner, Gilbert."

For once, Gilbert didn't have a reply.

"Do you write the hymns?"

Roderich blinked. "It's a collaborative effort. I write the piano pieces."

Roderich tried to incorporate as many songs into his services as he could. He had tried the preaching method that _his_ priest had attempted, only to see church attendance drop. Introduce a few songs, and suddenly people decide that their souls are worth salvation again.

That, and Roderich enjoyed playing more than praying.

"I haven't heard them anywhere else. They're nice, if you like that sort of thing." Gilbert snorted. "It's nice not to sit through two hours of bible thumping—it's at least bearable when you put it to a pretty tune."

Roderich felt his face warm up. "Thank you."

Gilbert grunted and stood, walking out.

Roderich put his glasses back on, letting out a shaky breath. As usual, he opened the door to watch Gilbert leave. Except Gilbert was standing there, leaning against the Confessional. Roderich jerked back.

"Look, a couple of my friends and I go bowling on Wednesdays. Here's my number, if you want to tag along. We don't go out and find harlots, or anything, but…" He shifted. "It's fun."

 **…**

"Why haven't you called?"

Roderich closed his eyes. "You can't come here anymore, Gilbert."

Gilbert banged a fist against the confessional wall, making Roderich flinch. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I'm sorry." He took a breath. "I'm sorry, Roderich."

Gilbert didn't even _believe_ in God, why had he come to Roderich's church in the first place? The priest turned away from the other side of the Confessional, taking off his glasses. He heard Gilbert breathing and Roderich wanted to shrink into himself.

"I… I'm perfectly fine being friends with someone of _your kind_ ," Roderich said softly, turning away from Gilbert like he could see him fully through the screen. "But you cannot act that way towards me. You can't come into this church anymore."

"My kind?" Gilbert hissed. "Is that really what you think of me?"

Roderich couldn't bring himself to answer.

Gilbert laughed, shaking his head. "Well, _newsflash_ , Roderich, you're one of my kind! You kissed back. So, I guess the joke's on you, _Father_ ," he spat the word, "Go play your stupid piano and pray. See if I care! Be miserable." And he left.

Roderich didn't open the Confessional to see if Gilbert was waiting.

He wished it was like when he was small, when the Confessional was a place of peace and love. It was somewhere safe and unjudging of his strange thoughts he had late at night. He used to love leaving, feeling pure and weightless.

Now, Roderich wanted to stay and pretend there was nothing beyond the old, wooden doors of the Confessional.


End file.
